Glacecest 30 Kisses: 01: Look Over Here
by Tabi
Summary: Written for 30 kisses over at Livejournal. Marron takes a moment or several to himself to muse on the smaller things in life. Things he can see, things he can feel... what might Carrot see and feel? It's the little things.


~30 Kisses~

~01: Look Over Here~

It looked cold outside.

My head was turned towards the window. I had little recollection of how exactly I came to be in that position... there seemed to be a long moment between my staring out of the window and my wondering just how and why I was staring out of the window in the first place. Doing something so simple... was there not anything else to do? Could I not move, could I not sit up, could I not pull the sheets further and wriggle down lower into the bed...? Surely the idea of being in bed in the first place was to be in a position of comfort and warmth...

I felt warm, I felt deliriously warm. The bedsheets still caught over my legs, caught across my ankles, wrapped vaguely over my feet... those had become unimportant and shoved further and further down the bed, so much so as they might not even have bothered remaining there. Perhaps, like myself, they had not the energy nor the drive to do anything of any worth. My mind worked furiously but my body felt reluctant to do anything, and the very warmth that spread through me that made me reluctant was too delicious to try to spoil. In such busy times, it sometimes comes to feel as if there's no time at all to sit aside and do nothing... for once we are alone, for once we are undisturbed, my brother and I. The fervour and the passion leads to the hesitation and the necessity, that leads to the frenzy and the prison between us that evolves into freedom... the extreme forces of emotion burn themselves out and for moments afterward there seems like there's nothing at all. Who am I? For that moment, I don't remember and I don't care. Where am I? A similar answer. The who, the where, the why, the what... all of those things become insignificant beneath that one splendid apathy. To not be able to worry about anything, to not even be able to think of my own identity... to be taken from a kiss and to lose myself in him. It is a curious sense of freedom, yet I relish it every time.

Between the window and I is a space filled with little that I can actually see. I know that slightly beyond my field of vision is a bedside cabinet, which would be turned sideways from this viewpoint. I fancy I can picture that bedside cabinet without looking at it, not that there is anything special upon that cabinet. There's an oil lamp, isn't there? It needs more oil. You mentioned that several days ago didn't you, niisan? You said you would refill it, but I don't think you got around to it. I kept checking. I thought about refilling it myself, but I thought that you would chide me for doing something you'd obviously forgotten to do... for me to do the chore would be evidence of your forgetful mind, and perhaps you'd be affronted somehow. I wouldn't mind if you forgot.

That lamp could also do with polishing, couldn't it? I remember when that lamp used to shine even from just being sat in the sunlight, but over the years it's become dull and tarnished. Perhaps I shall do that tomorrow, if we don't have a mission. If I remember. Things within these moments are often forgotten when the situation changes, even when my bodily position changes... for the time being, I have a future task in mind and as far as is theoretically possible, I will perform it.

I'll probably forget.

The wall around the window is as white as the rest of the painted walls in the room, but there's something about that particular wall that looks a little darker for being in such close proximity to the light source next to it. The wall beside the wall holding the window also looks dark somewhat in comparison, but that wall at least has the privilege of the sun's light shining upon it...

The sun's light? It isn't sunny. Cloudy? A little bit. The sky is blue, but a light and smooth blue, as if it were a colour mixed and hung in the sky by some master artist. Not as bright and vibrant as it would be on the best of days, but there's something delicate about that sky, about that shade of colour. Blue fades to lighter blue fades to almost a shade of grey across the sky with no definite moment or line of change... the entire sky, from what I can see of it, is this expanse of subtle shades and changes. It seems to reflect how I feel; there is something relaxing about that sky, yet not sudden or energetic... if the sky were to be that bright blue and if the sun were to shine in fiercely, surely I would already have been bid to move by the urge to shield my eyes, to perhaps walk downstairs to Eden's gardens and spend some time with my brother out there, if he wished...

As it is, the sky outside matures and wanes in these early evening hours. Not yet to get dark... perhaps I could sit here and watch the window until it became dark? I don't see why I shouldn't. There's nothing to stop me, nothing to prevent me... also... I'd quite like to, I think.

The sky is occasionally broken by the form of a bird or several flying across my field of view, that which the window allows me to see. They fly in from somewhere unseen, fly off to somewhere outside the four frames of the window or somewhere so far off within that reach that I would not be able to see it... sometimes one will fly, sometimes a small flock of them will fly past. I'm sure there's a name for that and them depending on their species, but from this distance and this position all I can say of them is that they are black, and that might not even be true if I were to look at the creatures with a more attentive eye. Ah, the sound of those birds... a sudden harsh call, somewhere beyond those trees I can see... a continual cackling sound. A higher-pitched noise. Are those the same birds? I wonder. Perhaps it is a difference between gender, a hereditary difference... perhaps they indeed are two different kinds of bird. I can't see from here, and I don't mind. I'm content to hear their birdsong, lacking in melody though it is.

Another bird flies quickly on overhead. Momentarily, I wonder what it would be like to be a bird like that... such a thought makes me think of those hazy things I can't remember, those things I experienced not so long ago yet seem so amazingly distant. One would perhaps describe the sexual act as something that enables the participants to 'fly', don't you think? Niisan... do you think we flew? Like this and like that... I think those are two very different things. Our flight was specific and controlled, we held each other and we left marks upon each other's skin, we cried out each other's name (or title), it became something burning and something uncontrollable and I feel my body stir in a small unnoticeable way on thinking like that. My body physically remembers and can fill in the gaps that may be present in my mind.

That bird up there, it certainly flew, I saw it... but to fly like that... it flew on its own, didn't it? That black spread shape silhouetted against a tiny portion of sky. A bird flies for a specific purpose... high in the sky, the wind beneath it's wings... the year is progressing and it isn't warm out there. I can't imagine what it would be like to be in the sky other than to be outside with the absence of earth below my feet, but I couldn't say I'd imagine it would be warm out there, up there... perhaps there would be an exhilarating kind of feeling of being able to hover and soar, sweep across the sky and be amongst the clouds... but to be there and to be alone, to be free but to be chilled by the swift winds that would cause flight in the first place... I don't think I would wish for that, niisan. I'd rather our flight remained restricted by the edges and lines of this bed, the chill of the wind replaced by the warmth of your body. I would much rather experience the latter than the former.

A slight silence... the birds have stopped, just for the time being. The sky outside... it seems darker, somehow. Perhaps an hour has passed since I began looking out of the window... perhaps an hour has passed since my last thought. There could be an infinite space between each singular feeling, and the fact that I can't be sure only pleases me.

Beyond the window is the garden and bordering the garden are the many trees that must have been planted long before we were to be here, niisan. I wonder, how many Sorcerer Hunters might there have been here before us? How many might come afterward? That neverending circle. I wonder how many were like us, niisan...? The thought that surely we must be uncommon if we are not unique pleases me. Even if nobody knows what makes us different, even if nobody knows the things that we choose to keep secret... niisan, niisan. It is between us and it is special, nobody else has to know.

My mind lapses into thoughts that I don't interpret as words for long enough to make me wonder if _I_ am asleep, let alone you, my brother... but my eyes are still open and seeing, my thoughts are still conscious... I fear that if I were to close my eyes, I would sleep immediately. Perhaps I should do so, but just for this moment and this time, I would like to experience these small things that I will forget within hours.

The one thing that catches my eye above all else is not the sky outside or the trees beyond, not even the occasional bird that flies from here to a place that only it may know. The thing that moves so continually and so erratically... somewhere on the outside wall is a creeper, and that creeper has not been cut. It dangles down to a singular thin branch in front of the window, though fronds and leaves are visible enough. To the very edge of the window is another short tendril, and it shakes and trembles continually in the wind. That seems to be what catches my attention the most... that constant movement, unpredictable and nervous. The rest of the world outside seems so still... the trees may shake in the wind, but we are too far away to be able to see that. Those branches of creeper tell us of the wind outside.

The longest tendril is the one that seems to move the most. It sways back and forth, exposed as it is... I see that but I watch that sidemost one. Perhaps because that is the one my angle allows me to watch with the most ease... I can just stare straight ahead and see that plant, those leaves. Watch them move and shudder as you watched me do so earlier, niisan. It is the wind that causes the bird to fly and the wind that causes that foliage to move, but it is you who... who... who causes so _many_ things within me... so many things I could not even begin to count them. Niisan... oh, niisan...

I close my eyes and the world outside is displaced. The distant and far away things, the things that are cold... I can follow a bird's path through the sky with my eyes and imagine that searing cold through the feathers of an illusion, but I can also close my eyes and ignore all but that which I can feel with my body. That bedsheet against my feet. The mattress against my curled fingers. The way my hair has fallen against my face and neck, the way I haven't even bothered to try to move it just yet... for a while it stuck to me in places but my body has now cooled and my sweat has since dried. Even the physical signs of our union would fade... but sometimes I can't help but think, a relationship is not about what has been or what is... more than that, it is what has the potential to happen...

Could I be so happy if this were to be our only union, niisan?

If you were to speak to me in uncomfortable tones, if you were to say to me such things that I would wonder about even though I know that I shouldn't...

If you were to ever decide that this wasn't enough...

Could this relationship settle for that which happened in the past? I would rather we always looked to the future. To relish one event is wonderful but surely the very moment is tainted by the sadness that it cannot last forever, the thought that one day - even in a few seconds - such a thing would be consigned to memory, and what is memory to record things that are so precious? Memory cannot make an apparition of touch, memory cannot transmit to somebody else a particular feeling... memory can echo and words can attempt, but there is nothing that could describe what it feels like to be with my brother. I think about it and it overwhelms me, I think of the risks and the dangers and I am frightened. Then I see his innocent eyes and more than hope, I _know_ that he would never wilfully betray me... if something were to come between us, perhaps it would be something mutual. I feel like I could love him for as long as was ever possible. There is something that connects something within us in a very real sense, is there not? Even if that link is something so terrible as that of Hakaishin and those that bind him... the soul does not have to mirror the physical flesh.

It doesn't _have_ to.

I would bind you if that was what you asked for.

I feel that you bind me in so many more ways than I could easily tell you, niisan. This bond of flesh is but one aspect but oh, how that aspect affects me... would it be the same if we didn't experience this? Would it be deeper? Not as deep? I feel there is a part of you I know only through this. That part is only very elusive and I don't think I could describe it well even in my mind, but... when we are pressed together, when our heat is shared... when you hold me or I hold you, when the physical desperation is something more than we can stand and a mere tremble says and moves me more than a thousand words could ever manage... when you open your eyes and open them wide, when that very specific _look_ comes across your face... you barely change, but the look in your eyes is more than you would let anybody but myself ever witness. That crease of your brow, that desperation in your eyes... to reduce it to the physical is to remove the mystery and I could never describe how I like those things because I don't _want_ to describe how I like those things. They are of you and I adore them, they are of you and I _need_ them. I would go as deep as I wished without knowledge to guide me, because for once it is something that requires no knowledge.

I open my eyes again and smile softly. Darker outside, and a few spots of rain adorn the windowpane. Thinking of the things that I can physically feel... my body still aches from how you used it and my legs don't even want to work to shift me to a different position on the bed. After I felt you shudder on top of me I hold a vague recollection of you pulling away, you falling back onto the bed... I can feel your arm against my shoulder. I can hear you breathing. Why am I looking so intently out of the window when you are mere centimetres away from me?

I have known you so intimately that perhaps I would be forgiven for my reprieve, yet... I don't wish for such an absence. That wish drives my body more than only thought can do, and I find myself rolled onto my back before I quite realise it. The movement is a bit sudden and my body complains, I wince as I do so and quickly relax into stillness once more.

"Uhn..."

"Nnnh..."

My slight noise seems to provoke you into movement also. You shift on the bed as if asleep - I turn my head to look at you, I think you _are_ asleep. Ah, a twitch of the brow... your eyes open... you don't seem to actually see anything for a few moments after you regain sight. You frown slightly and blink a few more times. Then you seem to realise where you are and who you're with, for you turn to look up at me. You don't smile, but you don't _have_ to. I smile at you despite myself.

"You fell asleep, niisan...?"

"Mmmhn... seems so..."

Your voice is sleepy and distant enough to consolidate my question, but such concern is easy to ask, and you don't mind if I do. I continue, "Did you sleep well?"

"Don't really remember... hnn_nnnn_..."

You stretch, arms and legs flailing at the air for a few seconds before falling back onto the bed with a soft and comfortable kind of sound. I can't help but be gently amused by you... there is nothing that you're doing that is specifically amusing, but still you amuse me. You please me. You make me smile, niisan. You look at me again, speaking once more.

"... You fell asleep too, huh?"

"I might have done, though I can't quite remember either... I think I became preoccupied with the view from the window somewhat..."

"Oh yeah?"

A noise of physical exertion as you manage to bring yourself to sit up for a few seconds. This eventually proves to be obviously too much for you, you fall back down against the bed with your eyes closed. A few moments pass, you open them again. You do smile, this time.

"Pretty boring though, isn't it?"

"Niisan?"

"Lookin' out the window. S'getting dark anyway... but c'mon, some trees, the sky... did I miss something?"

I shake my head with a smile, "Nothing at all, niisan."

"So you were just staring at trees and stuff?"

"Yes, niisan."

"Huuh, I guess I was missing something after all..."

Deciding to give that which obviously enthralled me a second chance, you lift yourself up onto your arms to a firmer position this time. You stare at the window in silence for a few moments... I watch you as you watch what I watched, your eyes wide with a different emotion to that which I treasure... though, if I was honest with myself, I would say that I treasured each and every one of your emotions, your expressions. You are my weakness and I cannot help but love every part which comes together to make _you_... and I watch your eyes rove the sky, follow the trail of a bird... even to be so close there are still things that are closed away. I wonder if your thoughts on that sight are anything like mine? I wonder if you imagine the chill of the wind against imaginary wings as you watch that bird...? Does your mind soar to a place alongside that creature, do you sit atop a tree and watch all that it would see, that only it _could_ see...? I wonder, I wonder. You don't tell me and I cannot guess just through looking at you, though to watch you transfixed for that short time is enough. Perhaps something moved you, perhaps something caught you. Do you wonder what it is that I see when I look out of that window? The mindframe has changed. Even I can't remember many of the thoughts that so suddenly ran through my head at that specific moment.

Eventually your silent analysis of the outside world ends on a frown, you glance down at me.

"So... uh.... trees, huh?"

I shake my head once more, "It doesn't matter, niisan. I wasn't looking at anything in particular."

"Musta been looking at _something_ to have kept you lookin' for so long...!"

I can't help a slight laugh, "It's really nothing, niisan."

My amusement at your seemingly serious confusion seems to change something in your attitude. On realising that I'm not quite taking it seriously, you seem to go from wondering what I would think to something separate entirely. You look down at me still, shifting over onto your front, leaning forward on your two hands rather than the opposite that had been previously... you smirk, and that smirk chills me in such a wonderful way. I no longer have to wonder about what you're thinking - with such an expression, only one thing can be on your mind. My naughty and perverted niisan. You know I won't argue.

"You really didn't mind looking at something boring for ages..."

"It seemed easier than moving."

"I guess. Still, there _are_ better things to look at... I mean... looking over there... then looking over _here_..."

A nudge of the head indicates the window, a nod of the head indicates something different. The comparison is doomed to failure, you know what my answer will always be just as much as I know yours.

Having woken up from your nap, I assume that if you feel awake enough to make such suggestive comments and movements, you obviously feel awake enough to go further than that. You don't disappoint me, and my mind is soon occupied on things far deeper, more complex and oh so much more pleasurable than what may or may not be outside our bedroom window...

Yet such pleasures will almost undoubtedly lead me back to that same position with those same thoughts. Is one just a distraction for the other? Just as you needed your sleep, I needed my introspection. It'll be dark soon. Perhaps we'll both sleep. Perhaps you might find something fascinating in the night sky just as I would find something fascinating within you.

Perhaps you'll tell me, perhaps you won't. I don't mind. While we have this past and hold this present, we have the potential for that future, don't we? In that future, maybe I'll know. Maybe _you'll_ know. I don't know. Perhaps the idle curiosity could propel us, but as I submit to you once more, I let go of my train of thought. Some situations require an absence of rational thought and this, I would say, is one of them.

~28th April 2005~


End file.
